Mikan Girlfriend
by Cut3'n'Psych0
Summary: "Are you- are you serious?" He smirks. "Oh come on, I can't be the only one thinking it." — Now with plot! LawxNami.
1. Chapter 1 - Contusions

**A/N**: For years I have read a lot of fanfiction where Sakura is described as the "pinkette". Take this as my unofficial petition to follow suit in actively describing Nami as the "orangette".

I _love_ LawNa smut. Although this might be a little too heavy to start off with... ;;

Semi-AU.

Not meant for all.

**Warning**: Anal and Biting.

* * *

Chapter 1: **Contusions **

or _a region of injured tissue or skin in which blood capillaries have been ruptured; a bruise._

* * *

**Presently;**

**In a house; to the far East of Orange Mill Village**:

Fresh from the bath, Nami drops her damp towel on the bathroom floor and pads naked towards her room. She flips on the lights, enters, and sits at the peach princess vanity chair. Facing her reflection in the Hollywood mirror, her smile grows as she takes in her glowing complexion with pride; and then breaks off to look around for her mother's brush— It was on the adjacent table.

With her smile still in place, Nami reaches over and picks it up; and runs it quickly to through her damp hair. As she parts her locks to the side to de-tangle the ends, her simple activity comes to a steady halt the moment she had noticed something amiss, and her brown eyes comically widen.

Save for the tiny orange freckles that had naturally adorned her cheeks, collarbone and shoulders, there were now several dark bruises— considerably blighting the otherwise perfect skin— on her neck. On _both_ sides.

"Oh for fuck's sake..." she says, as she carefully places the gold heirloom back on the table, and yanks her make-up drawer open. She had been in the middle of frantically digging through it for sponges when the culprit, who had been watching from the dark, finally decides to announce his presence.

"Don't," he says, hastily. "Cover up my bite marks."

Nami jumps from her seat with a tiny squeak; clearly, not having expected an audience. Without composing herself, she squints, and zeroes in on the figure through her mirror. Meanwhile, _he_ was the perfect embodiment of cool, as he leaned against the open door-frame with both his arms and legs crossed. His eyes glowed from the dark, trained —as is his custom whenever she was near— solely on her.

_Jerk_— She thinks, as with a small, exasperated sigh, Nami diverts her attention back to her task.

"Well, your bedside manner is impeccable as always." she says dryly, earning a chuckle. Without missing a beat, her fingers sweep past her prize and she squeals triumphantly; and it only dies down on her lips with his next accusation.

"If you do, I might have to do something a little more... obvious."

By this point, he had pushed off from his perch by his shoulders and slinked further into her room, to encroach her plush mattress. He sits down right behind her, _of course,_ and laces his long fingers together before jamming both elbows right into his thighs. His hands follow to trail loosely between his legs. Nami trembles. What was most intimidating, however, had to be his beautiful eyes locked straight into hers— though half-lidded — gleaming with hidden intention.

Unfortunately for her, her face had also coloured greatly, exposing her rising excitement. He _was_ an attractive man, and no matter how many times they danced this dance, Law still had a way with rocking her into following his lead; even when she was not in the mood. And to make matters worse, the persistent smugness radiating in his yellow orbs was definitely not helping her situation— or growing irritation.

Her eyes narrow. The _bastard w_as, per usual, enjoying himself.

_A__t my poor expense!_ she thought, cheeks puffed out cutely, and briefly entertained herself with how she could go about to get him back. That is before she sensibly remembers that she had to get to work soon.

"Law, _honey_," she says in a fruitless attempt to placate the situation, "I work in a primary school..."

His own pair narrow.

"They're going to ask why Ms Nami has purple patches on her neck."

She met his glare head on, which he only broke off to snicker at the image— he was well aware that she did have a lot of rather inquisitive toddlers. Her exasperation swells tenfold.

But, ignoring her asshat boyfriend, Nami assembles her main make-up products and starts on her face: a light dust of powder, some eyeliner to accent her almond-shaped eyes and black mascara to finish. As she stuffed the wand back into its case, she tentatively looked over towards his reclined form.

Law was arguably biding his time; the sole shift in his countenance was to bite at his still-laced index finger. Till he tentatively raises both eyebrows.

_A challenge?_ A vein throbbed on her forehead.

He was definitely waiting for her to call his bluff. And not one for backing down, Nami switches the item for a sponge and raises it to her neck in a mildly threatening manner, and watches as his smirk widens around his finger.

Perturbed, she took pause. "Shouldn't you be at the hospital?"

"I got it covered."

"..."

"..."

She sighs. "You mean Shachi and Penguin do."

Law actually sulks. "...They fucking _owe_ me."

And he barely catches her whispered, "_Poor Chopper." _

She had also long since broken their eye contact; her brown eyes now fluttering shut as she lets out another— even longer— sigh before she starts dabbing at her neck.

_He_ was going to have a heart attack if his best surgeon wasn't on duty. Especially considering the scuffles their mutual friends often got into.

_"Oi Nami! Did you bring any meat?" Luffy would yell the minute he spots her stepping into their ward, all pale with worry, fully thinking just how that stupid monkey child had finally met his end. Completely oblivious to her sorry condition, he drags the curtain open, and beckons her closer as if he was merely ushering her into his messy room instead of the hospital-issued arm chair._

_"And sake. Don't forget sake," would chime in the other idiot from the bed next to him._

_She would try to hold back, really, if only out of her high esteem for the head doctor, but she still physically knocks some sense into their skulls before weeping in relief that they're both okay. __They gripe for the fresh, equal amounts of lumps on their heads, but are very quick to dismiss her fears with twin chuckles. __Both their grins especially widen when she brandishes their treasured items from her plastic bags._

_"You're the best, Nami!"_

Smiling fondly at the memory, Nami slowly opens her eyes, only to jump.

_Again!?_

As she was, distracted by her musings, Law had taken to stealthily approach her while she was in the middle of her daydream, and slips into a half squat, his hip teasingly brushing up against the side of her plush chair.

"Well?"

Nami swallows. His dark tone had rumbled the inquest as he inched closer; his form steadily rising, till his lips are a mere thread away from her own quivering pair. As his eyes are naturally fixated on her— they quickly drink up the moment her pupils dilate.

Subsequently, there's a small intake of breath, and just like that, he knew he had her — right where he wanted her. Law smirks openly.

"Thought I'd lost you there," he says in a lower octave, before slamming his lips to hers. She tries to jerk back, but he anticipates her escape by tangling his fingers into her cropped locks. Law yanks her other hand to the vanity table, knocking over a few of her items, as he effectively traps it under his own. The other one still stupidly holds her sponge up. He watches it precariously dangle between loose fingers from the corner of his eye, before it drops unceremoniously to the floor, forgotten.

Law smirks, completely smug. His tongue had already advanced to meet her own— her lips had been parted in shock the moment she had come face-to-face with him at her station, and he had seized the opportunity to taste her, coaxing her own tongue to dance with his, at times breaking to nip at her bottom lip.

Nami emits a low sigh, and her free hand trails uncertainly in his hair only tugging when he got particularly feral with his biting.

"Not so harsh," she whines against his lips, and he squeezes her chin, darting his tongue in and out of her mouth before trapping their lips together in another kiss— before his hand slides back into her hair against her nape; and his finger and thumb lightly tug at some of the ends.

_Hmm... it's getting longer._

From her neck, his left hand slides downward to brace her back, and the other quickly slips under her knees.

Lips still locked together, Law jerks her up from her chair, and slowly shifts towards the bed. He leans down to settle her frame against the wayward pillows, and only pulls back to unbutton and take off his white dress shirt.

Nami snaps out of her daze for a moment.

"I'm going to be late..." she says as he creeps his way up between her thighs, his long fingers already digging into the sensitive flesh to part them wider.

"..."

"_Law-_"

"I don't care."

Nami lifts herself on her elbows to openly glare at him, stopping short the minute his tongue— flat against her sex— licks her in one slow, long fondle from the taint all the way up to her clit. He repeats the same action over and over; his senses overwhelmed by her strong natural scent before he diverts his attention solely to her throbbing bundle of nerves.

"But w_ha_t if I get _fired_!?" she says her voice rising and lowering haphazardly, whimpering as he bites down; and rams two digits in her cunt.

"Then you'll be at home," he says, pulling away from her sex as he rapidly scissors the fingers inside her, "waiting for me," he pries them back out before jamming them back in with a third, "to fuck you."

He pumps her, and though still propped up on her elbows, her head lulls back, mouth wide open; exhaling low moans of pleasure.

Law keeps suckling on her clit till he hears that all to familiar cry of sweet release. He draws his now wet fingers out of her even wetter hole, and steadily rises to ease both of his knees on her thighs; to keep her stable. Now above her, Law takes in her disheveled form.

Her eyes are unfocused; and Nami is still panting as she comes down from her orgasm.

It was getting increasingly difficult to—

_What were they even arguing about again?_

Pleased, Law feels fairly electrified knowing, he too, was the culprit behind this particularly hot segment.

And now...

_...for the sequel._

His middle finger— damp from its earlier onslaught slips from between his lips— now positively drenched. As it drips with his saliva, he is quick to regain his composure and steadfast brushes against her anal cavity in light teasing strokes. His cool demeanour only cracks the minute she's onto him.

"Law-WHAT THE HELL _NO._"

His smirk widens.

"I warned you, Nami-ya." he says, before slamming it all the way up to the knuckle.

Nami squeals, and tries to buck him off, yet his frame, though incredibly lanky, was still heavier then hers. Completely unnerved, he makes a show of fondling one of her breasts, tugging at the nipple as she squirms helplessly under him. He curls his other finger, and in turn, she crosses her arms and buries her reddening face beneath them.

When he pulls the sole finger out, Law crams in a second one, forcefully expanding her tight hole, and she cries out, feeling odd and drawn into it at the same time.

"It won't fit." she mewls pathetically from behind her arms, clutching at her face. Because there was no way in hell she was going to admit out loud that she was tempted to get fucked up the ass. Nami peeks from between her fingers the minute his baritone rumbles above her.

"Let me help you along." he says, as he pulls his fingers out of her with a slick pop; her hole quickly reverting to its initial state.

Nami blinks owlishly not sure exactly what he had in mind, only to sweatdrop at the level of excitement steadily rising on his expression as he moves to stand. _So creepy,_ she wails internally, before her vision is upended.

Law had flipped her on her stomach, and quickly drags her by the calf across the bed; closer to him. He also props her ass up higher by placing a pillow underneath her abdomen. As she was— with her knees digging into the edge of the mattress, and his face hovering near her backside— Nami contemplates crawling away, before Law returns to his earlier ministrations with renewed vigour; this time focusing solely on her puckered hole.

She howls into one of her fluffy pillows, fingers clutching at her sheets, completely mortified. Because no amount of "don't" and "stop" was going to delay what she had signed up for the minute she had outright confronted this crazy bastard. She may have very well been moaning for him 'not to stop' or something else completely irrelevant to their situation which shows just how much he was even listening to her at this point.

And yet, even with her muffled cries, it still wouldn't do to say that she was not turned on by his attention; and his wet thrusts had been nothing short of intense.

"You ready?" he says after a period, as he pulls away again to unbuckle and unzips his jeans, and she raises her head dumbfounded.

"Wha?"

Behind her, Law stood to his full height clad only in his black boxer-briefs; supporting the biggest tent. Craning her neck to look at him Nami gulps in trepidation as they too, join the rest of his discarded clothing. It's not like she hadn't seen it before. But to think that he was trying to fit _that_ into-

"Just relax," he says soothingly; and tersely pokes at her soaked rear entrance with the tip.

"Easy for you to say," she fumes, "You're not about to- aa_a__AAH!_?!"

The rest of Nami's accusation twists into one loud scream, as he picks the ideal time— when she was busy figuratively ripping him a new one — to actually breach her backside. On top of her, Law screws his eyes shut, breathing heavily. Sweating, he bares his full weight on his fists aptly placed on either side of her shuddering frame, as he eases his full length up her ass.

"So _tight_," he hisses.

Despite taking the time to prepare her, Law still finds it tough to slip in effortlessly, and with a small groan he makes to draw himself back out again. He remembers one of their dinner conversations mid-way through his feat.

So she hadn't been kidding—_she really had never done this._

Below him, Nami is close to bawling. Her soft moans are laced with pain and he would feel bad, really, if his vision hadn't been exploding in pleasure.

She just felt so amazing; literally squeezing the life out of his dick, and Law revolves to return the favour tenfold. He licks his lips wet first, and still sheathed, lowers himself by bending his arms at the elbow— trying with all his might not to flex his hips— all to keep her from crying herself hoarse this early on.

He brushes his lips along her spine, and although she doesn't stop whimpering, their frequency is reduced to quiet pants, as she draws her last short sob.

Tongue drawn out, Law ascends all the way up to her neck, stopping at the junction below her ear and deftly latches onto one of her pleasure spots— he _had_ marked them all late last night— and below him, Nami whines. He smirks against her skin when she smoothly transitions back to sounding delighted; and deigns himself a quick, tentative jerk.

Law is rewarded by a gratified cry, and as he clamps onto her earlobe, he rolls his hips away from hers, steadily drawing his length out halfway before he's back inside her again. She is still oh so very tight, even as he braces one knee on the bed, and grasps at the adjacent hip to steady his pace; as he draws out his length agonizingly slow, and just as, eases himself fully back inside her warm cavity. Her cries are close to sobs again, lifting to shrieks if it picks up too fast.

He just couldn't help it. It was like they were moving on a mind of its own; brimming with that burning need for release.

"Tora-o," she whimpers pathetically, her voice shaking as he rocks into her.

She tries to catch his eye over her shoulder, and though unwillingly, Law stops cold. Because her cute face is stained with tears.

He couldn't stand seeing her cry; much less if he was the cause. Not even for a dumb albeit marvelous turn of events.

Law pulls out slowly— and as he stands— deftly eyes the gaping hole left behind by his thick cock.

_That's... definitely not helping._

His hard-on throbbed in agreement. He scoops her back up in his arms again, and sits down on the bed with his back leaning against the headboard. Law takes great care to lower her comfortably on his lap.

In the meantime, Nami brushes any stray tears; unconsciously smearing the black lines over her eyes before her lips are captured again in a gentle kiss. Law sucks on her bottom lip as he traces slow lazy circles over and under her damp eyes with his thumbs before they lovingly fondle their way down to her waist.

He inwardly chuckles, as between kisses, his eyes had partially opened to take her in.

She looks just like him now— with the proverbial black circles that have naturally donned his own since a very young age. Except hers had been stretched all the way around both eye sockets. Her knees had slipped to settle on either side of his hips; his erection still demanding attention against her wet folds.

Still locked at the lips, Law rubs his thumbs against her hips, and the rest of his tattooed fingers rake her cheeks, as if asking for her permission this time round. She nods into his kiss, and with practiced slowness, Law guides himself up inside her asshole again.

He didn't like that he was allowing her more control. This was, after all, supposed to be her punishment for the many misconducts that had taken place just this past week. He was still beyond irritated that— Law stops short of his musings with an appreciative frown.

Nami had fixed her palms to his collarbone; her nails digging deep into his shoulders, and he grunts. She was in the middle of easing herself into a squatting position as she slowly engulfed his dick back up. Then, she initiated by rolling her ample hips— set in an even slower, steady rhythm— all on her own.

He reaches forward to kiss her. He was no longer the one penetrating her, _but... _Law was definitely not minding this trade off, especially when she did that thing with her—

Groaning, Law pulls back from her lips to look at her, head tipped back slightly, eyes closed in concentration; genuinely humping his length, seeking her own sexual enjoyment with hefty pants.

Law runs his tongue over his lower lip_— _still wet from her attention_—_ before his teeth sink into it.

She is _so_ fucking hot.

_And I'm__—_

"I'm so close." he sighs; his own eyes clouded in pleasure. His head smacks against the plush headboard with another gratified sigh as her muscles tighten around him.

Her eyes snap open in mild fear because Nami knows exactly what he's trying to insinuate. She was ready to protest, and halts abruptly_— _save for one panicked clench that draws out another groan_—_but stops herself short in realization.

_This could end things... quicker._

Because all in all, it still fucking _hurt_.

_And_, she thought, even if the next few minutes would be absolutely brutal— because there was no way in hell Trafalgar Law ever held back— it would all be over soon. So, with an almost pleased smirk of her own, Nami releases his shoulders to snake her arms around his neck, and leans back; effectively dragging his surprised form on top of hers. She hesitates only for a second before she hooks her legs around his waist at the ankle.

"Do what you must," she says finally; lips screwed in a pout, bright brown eyes narrowing in accusation. His own gold orbs blink back at hers.

_How exciting._

She played the submissive femme fatal card very well, and his enthusiasm triples.

_But ..._

Law smiles, and to her horror, his hands grasp at her thighs, to tug, and break her grip.

"W_hy_—"

He had slipped out a few inches during her maneuver. But that didn't matter as_— _still clutching at her thighs_—_ he deftly shoves either forward into her frame. They are then braced against his tattooed forearms as her long legs dangle helplessly over them; before he smirks, and slams his hips full force into hers.

She shrieks, long and wild, and her eyes roll all the way to the back of her head as Nami once again finds herself wobbling that fine line between pain and pleasure; far more longer than she had anticipated. All in all thanks to his legendary stamina, it came close for their poor neighbours to accustom the remainder of her loud, piercing cries to a broken police siren going off till it eventually ran out of batteries.

* * *

Back in their bedroom, Law jerks his hips unceremoniously into hers one final time before he groans out his orgasm long and loud; the sound rumbling straight into her ear, and his form sags on top of hers. Full to the brim, Nami too shudders, as she comes out of her own daze, and acquiesces to playing with his drenched hair.

He pants, spent, and nuzzles into her chest— feeling even more satisfied with her caresses— as she breathes in their combined, pungent scent. Her legs had long since slipped back down to his waist; and were now tangled with his own. Absentmindedly, her eyes drift to her desk, or more specifically towards the digital clock that was announcing in bright red numbers just how late she really was.

Oh no. _Ohnononon-_

Smoker was going to kill her.

Law senses her stiffen, and with her illustrious temper quickly rising from the ashes, Nami bonks him on the head.

"Ow." he says, right into her ample cleavage.

"Poor baby," she says with a mock frown. He had looked up just in time to see it.

"Now get off of me! I'm already _so **fucking** late_ and I'm not going till I at least take a shower."

Law assents her request. He pulls out his now shriveling dick, and quickly de-tangles their legs, as he hefts himself to the side on one arm to let her roll out from under him.

As she stands, shakily, (he's very pleased to note) he checks out the thick film of cum dripping, trailing down along her thighs, and after releasing his tongue from between his teeth at the sight— he cheekily calls out to her.

"Want some company in there?"

She turns to give him an insufferable stare, before bending over to pick up one of her heels and aiming straight for his forehead.

He ducks just in time, and the single piece of lavish footwear first slams against the wall, then slides down to thunk against the floorboards.

Openly laughing, Law looks at her miffed form as she stomps her way to the ensuite.

God help him.

He thought as he laid back down spread-eagle on her bed, before lacing his ankles, and his hands behind his head. He listened to the lock turning, _minx_, before the shower goes off a few seconds later in the adjacent room; the sound of water peppered by vexed mutterings in her native tongue.

He fucking loved this woman.

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**A/N**: Would anyone be interested in reading more?

Please leave a review~! ❤


	2. Chapter 2 - Lacerations

**A/N**: Thank you to all the reviews and new followers— Welcome! [to the dumpster fire!] I'm so glad there are people getting into this story, and that there was even someone who specifically noticed Smoker's addition to the fray— he plays a slightly bigger role in this chapter~!

It's a little tame compared to the first one but still... might _not be _meant for all. If you do see something you like—or not— tell me about it in a review!

**Warning**: Further (mentions of anal), biting, and sex between our favourite happy couple.

But first; a heavy dose of Plot— including: some background/past and present relationships.

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Chapter 2: **Lacerations**

_a deep cut or tear in skin or flesh. _and also,

_\- the action of criticizing someone severely._

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**Presently;**

**Somewhere on the road** **towards** **Grand Line Town:**

The landscape of her hometown unfurled like a fuzzy green blanket under the hot glow of the late morning sun as they swiftly inched closer to the city.

Nami rolls down the car window by half, and first inhales the rich wood aroma deeply, then her eyes rake over the fading lush scenery of Syrup Village — all in a piss poor attempt to steady her fraying nerves. Besides her, Law seems completely oblivious to her inner turmoil.

"Great day, huh?"

Instead of answering him, Nami shifts to looks ahead, still feeling pretty aggravated.

Ultimately, she had been glad to steer herself into the shower before leaving; albeit puzzled by the black marks on her hips. That was until she had re-emerged from the bathroom, and come face to face with her reflection on her way out. Nami had been very close to screaming; and from his spot on the bed, Law had only chuckled at her predicament. He _had_ been the one to smear what had remained of her eyeliner all over her eye sockets after all

Then— her face no longer a downright mess— Nami had steadily applied a fresh layer of light make-up to her clean face, and Law had shifted onto his stomach to re-watch the process. She had given up all together on trying to hide the bruises with concealer as she had slipped on a plain powder-blue turtleneck to cover them instead, along with a pair of high-waisted jeans that stopped a few inches short of her ankles; to show off her favourite sandals, and her pedicured feet. He had been resting his head against his crossed arms, before a yawn had escaped his lips. Nami loses her composure.

_"Why are you still here!?"_

That was when, with another small yawn, he had pushed off her bed to slip back into his clothes, and offered to drop her off. Back in the car, Nami eyes her lime green toes — which she wiggles— with a frown before she eventually says something to him.

"I'd be enjoying it more if I would have been on time, you know— _like I planned._"

Law smiles and spares her a glance from the corner of his eye as he makes a left turn. They had by-passed the route he takes to the hospital long ago; and from their current venue, it was only just a little farther away from her own place of work. Nami lets out a small sigh, as she thunks her head sideways against the remaining glass partition.

_Ow._

That _still, _however, didn't hurt as bad as her lower back did, which had not stopped smarting since their last... _scuffle_— no matter how_ long_— she had let the shower head pelt the spot on her back with scalding water as she hastily scrubbed the smell of sweat and sex off of her.

_Maybe I'll try taking a hot bath later..._

Still against the window, Nami spots Sanji-kun popping out of _Baratie_ with a stool— probably on his way for a cigarette break. He does not seem to have noticed her as they whiz by.

_...I'll just have to ask Basil-kun to share his lavender salts._

Pleased with her plan, she thinks of the latter, dear high-strung friend, as she reaches out to fiddle with the radio knob. The sound of DJ _UMI NARI_ fills the car; with his very boisterous— and rather sexist— exclamations.

Subsequently, Nami had wrinkled her nose and reached back to switch it off and— save for the steady hum of the engine— they are both drowned in silence once again. Nami fidgets in her seat, and occasionally glances towards the driver. Law had not tried to talk to her beyond his stellar conversation starter; or her own chomp, but he did not seem displeased. Especially since the academy was way off his own usual route. If anything, he seemed, downright pleas— Nami spared him another glance— _well_ smug was more like it.

But the fake sense of tranquility was killing her. It was all starting to feel like—

—_the proverbial calm before the storm._

"You didn't have to do this you know..."

"I don't mind—", Law smoothly shifts between gears. "I like driving you around."

Despite her growing trepidation, Nami smiles. He could be such a sweet—

"I figured. But—"

"It's _fine_, Nami-ya."

"..."

"Consider our ..._spat_... over."

—_heart._

She turns to look at him fully, eyes wide in surprise. Law did not spare her a glance this time round as his focus was on pulling over, neatly; right next to the curb.

"Anyway," he says as he shifts the gear knob back to its original place. "We're here."

Law turns the key over to switch the engine off, and undoes his seat-belt in order to fully look at her too. Not blind to her fidgeting, he had been close to grant her some other semblance of reassurance as he undoes her own belt before she had jerked to the side —squishing further into her seat— to hide behind his much larger frame. Law blinks, once, before pulling a frown. He had just clipped her belt off; sure that it had not snagged her on its way back to its sheath.

"...what are you doing?"

As he spoke, Law had shifted, and she lets out a small squeal. Her arms dart forward to grab his black sweater and hold him in place, and along with confusion, he felt a small itch across his back.

"Not letting _him_ see me!"

Ignoring his own issue, Law was in the middle of turning his head to look behind him but she quickly grips his chin between her fingers to prevent it. His gold eyes shift down to look at her. He had to admit; during the past two months or so into their courtship, the tizzy she got into— specifically oriented for the _White Hunter _— had been entertaining to watch over morning coffee as she fretted about her house to gather her tools for the day. But _this_—

Sudden uncontrollable panic had overtaken her face.

—_ was just plain silly._

"Don't _look_!" she hisses.

Law was slowly becoming annoyed. "Hy-ai?"

His voice had come out muffled— his cheeks were still smooshed between her fingers.

"He'll know I'm _in_ here!"

He resisted the urge to roll his eyes, and awkwardly snickers around the digits instead as he gently pries her hands off his face.

"I think that ship has sailed already."

"You don't know that—! He could be—_mmph_!"

Suddenly back to feeling amused, Law had leaned over to kiss her.

His lips had caught hers right in the middle of her lament. When his tongue reached over to roll around hers, her eyes had slowly fluttered closed.

Law then lightly traces both of her lips with his own wet organ, chuffed to elicit another pleasured sigh from her, before he pulls back completely. His hand had remained fixed at the back of her neck, and one thumb kept lovingly grazing up and down the side of her emits a low chuckle at her dazed expression. "Have a good day of work, Nami-ya," he whispers against her lips; and he pecks her again before he finally releases her.

Nami blinks back to reality, flushed. She frantically rounds up her things, then opens her side of the car to exit the vehicle, and on second thought swerves back to slam it with an embarrassed huff. Gathering her wits, the orangette turns to face the front entrance—

_I hope he's not_—

—and screws up her face the minute she spots his looming form, puffing; awkwardly squatting on one of the plastic chairs —so he's sure to be in _an even fouler_ mood— as his even larger frame, one again, squarely blocked access to the front entrance. His steel gaze had zeroed in on her svelte figure long before she had left the safety of Law's Beetle.

_She_ — Nami sighs in defeat— _had been right after all._ Even if the small victory made her feel all the more smaller; and quivered in her designer ankle wrap sandals, as she attempted to— unsuccessfully— hide behind her charts the closer she stepped towards the gate.

Towards him.

"You're _late_."

There's an extra bite in this particular accusation, and Nami whimpers in fear. She had also drawn her charts to the side before she attempts to address him.

"Fuku-shacho!" she says, and instinctively bows at the waist. "It really wasn't my— ky_Ah!_"

Her awkward gait had _hurt_ but not as badly as the moment she had angled herself lower — unintentionally skyrocketing the throbbing pain to something close to inhumane on the pain scale.

The rest of his next bite dies on his lips as her own drum up an agonized moan. Of all the things ranging from pleas to ridiculous excuses, Smoker had not expected her to keel over in actual pain. He was close to immune to her _time of the month _bullshit. Especially since the last incident had taken place _for the third_ time just last month.

So... He blinks. There were even twin pinpricks of tears at the corner of her eyes, as she heaved and tried to steady herself upright again. His cigarette drops to the floor — as his lips had parted in surprise at the sight— and he was steadily considering that something serious had to have taken place.

"Are you al—"

But before Smoker could finish the rest of his query, there comes the sound of someone loudly clearing their throat— and with a grimace— Smoker is compelled to shift his grey eyes to look back towards the _other_ brat. But he is not pulled away from his inner musings just yet. Because, for starters—

She had brought in the cavalry.

Still lost in his thoughts, Smoker unwittingly shift his attention back to Nami as she awkwardly claws at her rolled items.

So, this really _was_ something significant...?

_Maybe some form of... illness?_

_.._ _._

_No, that can't be it._

_But if not, then ...what?_

Meanwhile Law had emerged from his car and had, once again, craftily announced his presence without physically butting in first. He briefly considered standing right were he was; and crossed his arms to lean against his vehicle. But as soon as his back hits his side of the door, Law hisses, and his eyes widen briefly in surprise.

Just then, Smoker is drawn out of his thoughts by the sound, and watches as Law pulls away from the yellow Beetle, to steadily approach their pair at a leisure pace. Smoker sighs and crushes the tip of the dropped cigarette under his boot before he bends over in his chair to pick it up.

_Not this bastard again..._

He chucks the poor, barely-smoked stick in the green 7-Up ashtray _already close to full_ before he focuses on the orangette, still frozen at his front; and with a small cough he draws her attention to him as he jerks his thumb behind him.

"I kept yer brats entertained for as long as I could."

With one small sound of surprise, Nami nods her thanks and her face breaks into a bright smile that _still_ barely conceals her distress from earlier.

_So_, Smoker digs through his pants pocket for his matchbox, definite, _genuine_ pain. He watches her retreating back as she quickly clambers off to her classroom; the heels clicking further and further away from his spot, as Law saunters forward to take her stead.

There is a brief pause as both men size each other up. Smoker then shifts his attention to fishing for his cigarette packet. So, eventually, Law is the one to break the silence between the two— by letting out a single huff of amusement.

"You like her better than me."

Smoker seemingly ignores him as he sticks three cigarettes in his mouth this time round, and strikes a match to light them all up. He inhales deeply before he squares his attention back to the new figure prostrated before him.

"She's great company," he says, as he exhales— and a huge cloud of smoke wafts over— unwavering in its mass as it stretches between the two.

Not put off by the practice, Law nods absentmindedly in assent, one hand rubbing at the stubble on his chin. Smoker sucks the life out of one of the sticks with one deep breath and draws it away from between his lips, to follow the others in the tray. There's twin trails of smoke streaming out of his nostrils as he speaks again.

"Especially to play cards with."

_Huh? _Law stops his fingers short and they ably slide down to cross against his chest. He clicks his tongue in distaste.

"She told me she stopped going to the Casino..."

Smoker grinds the next one— already down to the filter— right between its other fallen comrade, and faces the frowning man.

"Who said anything about the Casino?"

He actually smiles at the waves of petulance radiating off of Rosinante's brat before his mind drifts off— this time to his fellow police officers; idly wondering what they could be up to now while he was cemented to guard-dut—_babysitting_— this annoying school for 'gifted toddlers.'

_My ass,_ he thought as he reaches out for the pack again. Because to make matters worse, he was allegedly only allowed to smoke_ these shitty cigarettes_ and only if he was off school premises. Or at least, initially that had been the agreement. The principal had repeatedly implored him to stick to the rear entrance— away from prying eyes— and had been very adamant about the prestige her academy carried— her long, black hair swishing down to her ankles as she had 'looked down on him' when he scoffed.

But that had been a whole six months ago.

—_or was it 8?_

She had just taken the position herself, and as time had idly trickled by, Smoker was slowly wiggling out of her restrictive rules; to no immediate consequence within the first week.

Till— that next Monday_—_ Boa had suddenly confiscated his prized Cuban cigars.

_Think of the children!_ She had shrieked, and he would have felt guilty, truly, had the former empress not merely taken his goods simply because _she_ abhorred the smell of cigars.

And following the disapproval of his _new_ peers, at the nasty, _smelly_ habit he so liked to engage in; Smoker had taken to playing cards with them instead during break time.

For money.

* * *

**A few months back**;

**Amazon (formerly God) Academy**— **In the teacher's lounge:**

"Is this even... legal?"

Basil had asked from behind his cards, slightly concerned. He may have initially showed reluctance in accepting the part-time position of school counselor in addition to his teaching duties (he was the one currently responsible for the Grade 4 class) but he had definitely lived up to his principal's hype. He turns to eye the person in question— his companion for many, _many_ years— silently asking for her opinion. She, on the other hand, titters. And her head is drawn back all the way to the point where one could barely make it out at all. Basil sweats.

_Ah, there it is_ — her infamous looking-down-on-you pose. He turns to the other, much more favourable companion to their wayward trio; her delicate features schooled into the picture perfect embodiment of calm. He shifts a little closer to her.

"Meow-kino-chan?"

The green-haired beaut (occupant to Grade 1 for — _its impolite to ask!_—and beloved evening bartender to _Partys Bar)_ had pulled away from her cards with a sheepish smile.

"I _could_ use the money..." she says as she places the stack down neatly before her.

"...but I'm afraid I don't have anything good, Basil-kun."

Sighing together— one in exasperation, the other bashful— they both turned to face the other remaining players. Unfortunately for her, Boa had a terrible poker face, and they both sweated as she vigorously nibbled on her thumb.

_There was no way she was dealt a good hand._

Basil turns to the final —trump card— of their team.

"Nyan-mi-chan?"

But, true to her esteemed title, the youngest to their staff (recent addition, and treasured by her Grade 3 class) does not break character, and soon enough, both she and Smoker are the only two remaining heads at the table.

The pile of Berris had grown again, and slightly ruffled, Smoker chews on his toothpick before he chucks his cards on the table.

"I fold."

Nami remains unperturbed— her fingers itching to rake through the stack— till she opts for revealing her winning hand first.

Or so they had thought.

Basil snickers behind his palm, and Makino too lets out a quiet chuckle.

Her cards had been absolute shit.

She had completely fooled them—_him._

_Again._

Smoker clenches his teeth around the long wooden stick and it breaks just as he bangs both fists on the plastic table, rattling Basil, Makino and Nami along with it.

"Why you _little_—"

But Boa cuts him short as she leans over to his bigger frame, and yanks at his ear.

"What did I tell you about minding your language, hmm... Smoker-_kun_?"

She looks at him pointedly, and at the familiar nickname tugging at his heart strings Smoker quickly brings down his anger to a muffled simmer. He does not stop glaring holes into the orangette as she gathers up all their Berris into her greedy little hands. Instead of clinging to his distaste, however, Smoker suddenly hatches a plan.

This had neither been the first time they had played nor the first where she had won the whole pile, and he had been oh so sure that she was somehow cheating. Except that he never had any proof.

Smoker had believed neither Basil nor Boa in their appraisal to her abilities.

But... Makino too, had vouched for her.

_"She's just that good."_

Her pure admiration for the younger girl had punctured straight through his first-ever meltdown.

_"Even Shanks-kun has a hard time winning against her..."_

So no one ever had anything bad to say about her skills. And if she really _weren't_—

"How about you join me?"

Nami looks up from her winnings. "Hah?"

Smoker gathers up both ends of the toothpick.

"My _friends_," he spits out the word in distaste, "Like to play at one of the pubs in Loguetown. And it just so happens that—"

At his request, Nami had turned to Boa, who had openly shrugged— just as confused by his pump— but Smoker had carried on—

"—There's a game tonight."

Nami had remained silent, but he had been saving his own outmaneuver for last.

"They play for _very _high stakes."

Nami pauses only for a second as she faces the oldest male at their table.

"How high are we talking?"

Smoker smirks, and subtly stretches his arms overhead; exposing his prized watch. The smart girl does not miss his implication, and he could practically hear the sound of coins clinking about her head as she factors in the advantages, before she accepts his offer with a bright smile.

* * *

**Presently;**

**Amazon Academy**— **Outside; at the front gates:**

Smoker stubs the last cigarette into the tray, his now empty pack following the pile, as he watches the distancing figure of Trafalgar Law— awkwardly swatting at his back as he settles into his car— before driving off.

The white-haired male smirks in sudden comprehension. It was just like back then—

Because back then too—it had been fun to see those two idiots that followed Hina around like long, dumb shadows lose a multitude of Berris to the orangette. Their first, almost classic, mistake had been underestimating her as nothing more than a pretty face he had brought along with him to Gol D Louge Bar on the fly. But—

_"I'm not playing," he had said as he had taken a place to the side of the main table. But not before he had opened up his usual chair for her._

_"**She** is."_

_Both Fullbody and Jango had swivelled their disbelieving eyes from his large, frame _—_exuding cigar smoke around_— _and down to her tiny, and arguably more sexy-looking one. Their stupid grins widened._

_A **simple**, pretty face._

— attentive as she was, Nami had not only spun figurative circles around their horny behinds, but also struck them both down with a vengeance; along with Kuro, Aokiji and Vergo.

The latter three had been no less creepy— or threatening in Kuro's case— but after that night, none of them had managed to live the shame of defeat down for a very long time. Especially since the staff to Impel Down had also been present that night; though no one amongst their ranks had even attempted to shoe-horn their way into the game.

_"It cant be— I'm smarter than all of these idiots combined!"_

Kuro had hissed, his fists shaking, and Aokiji had placed one large hand on his shoulder in some semblance of loser camaraderie. To their right, Vergo had oddly enough remained silent. And, distraught by their loss, Thing 1 and Thing 2 had stopped pestering Hina long enough for Smoker to finally suck it up and ask her out.

On a proper date.

He chuckles at the memory of his soon-to-be first date, and runs a hand through his white tresses as he rises from his seat— and picks up the plastic chair, and full ashtray on the way in.

Before he had set off with her—

_"Hina-chan!... Fuku-shacho!... Wait!"_

—Nami had called out to them both. She had spared a portion of her winnings to buy all the females present drinks; and quietly slid a double shot of single malt whiskey his way before she had joined Hina alongside Domino and Sadi at the bar. Smoker had taken a tentative sip— frowning in quiet appreciation at her choice— as he eyes every single woman in their odd little group before his gaze finally rests on the orangette; her head tilted back mid-laugh.

The same three thoughts he had incurred back then still rung through his head today.

For starters, she was not someone to be messed with. And, as he had finally come to conclude during his own estimation for the past few months, _no one_— not even Rosinante's brat— had been free from inducing— and thereby suffering from— her wrath.

Finally— and this was definitely the most important fact of them all—

He slides the chair against the rest, and empties the ashtray with a bang against the huge metal trashcan, before he discreetly slips it back inside the School Trophy case.

Her thug of a mother would have been oh _so_ proud.

* * *

**On the other side of town;**

**Sakura Hospital**—** Underground; in the Parking Lot:**

Law parks at his usual spot, and quickly slinks up the stairs to his ward. The coast had been clear_ so far_, and he really thought he had made it; till he hears the distinct clicking of disapproval coming from— the much, _much_ younger head doctor— behind him. He quietly sighs in resignation before he stiffly turns to face him.

"Good morning, Tony-y—"

"It's already 12:00 _you bastard!"_

Law grimaces, and subtly eyes the clock above the others' pink head. It was still 11:53 but—

Law shifts his attention off the wall; back towards the fuming physician— maybe he should refrain from pointing that out. Also, Chopper looked like he was in the middle of gearing up to dump his pent-up, morning frustrations onto him. He idly wondered what or —_who_— had gotten him so worked up in the first place.

_Did Mugiwara-ya have yet another accident?_

Beyond his top hat, which Chopper kept insisting on wearing even inside the building, Law catches the eye of the other physician, Marco.

_Or was it Zoro-ya?_

The angry veins throbbing alongside his neck suggested a combination of both, before—ever the most sensible of the bunch— Marco waves at him as he quickly scrawls something into his notepad. As the blonde had seemed particularly invested, Law had to wonder—

_Maybe this time round— that mute brother of his had somehow gotten invol—_

But he is drawn out of that particularly harrowing train of thought by Marco as he nimbly brandishes the hospital pad overhead; outlining one clear name as the culprit.

_Ah._

No wonder.

Law lowers his gaze back to Chopper, and as he was heaving, the older male is quick to interject.

"I'll take care of it."

And quickly slinks off before the other could start hurling a fresh barrage of insults.

* * *

**Sakura Hospital— Second Floor; in the Emergency Department**:

The single patient responsible for pissing in Chopper's morning bowl of sugar and sunshine was strewn uncomfortably on one of the cots; all the way to the very back of the ward. And the moment _he_ spots him coming over— and actually entering his room— he is quick to voice his displeasure.

"Not you again," he groans as he edges further into the white pillow, faintly reeking of antiseptic. He grimaces and whether its at the smell or his one visitor— no one will ever be sure— while Law shuts the door; and only the latter remains silent.

"Seriously— fucking anyone but _you._"

Law draws a chair closer to his prostate form and looks at the belts secured over his mid-section, before shifting his gaze to the one poorly strapped to his forehead. While someone had managed to shackle him to the bed at least, his right arm had remained free.

_Poor Chopper indeed._

He must have also been unsuccessful in administering a sedative. And none of the nurses were brave— or paid enough— to enter the room, much less offer to assist him with treatment. He squares his golden glare on the others' own auburn pair.

"We both know that's a blatant-faced lie, Eustass-ya."

From his spot on the bed, Kid bristles but chooses not to comment. Law carries on—

"I'm sure you weren't this accommodating to Tony-ya, or else he wouldn't have been breathing down my neck just a few seconds ago."

Kid snorts. "Maybe if you weren't so worked up over trying to suck a promotion out of his dick—"

Law clenches a fist, and reaches over for the chart as Kid continues ranting, before he settles back on his seat, crossing one leg above the knee over the other.

"—exactly how, by some crazy stroke of luck, _you_," Kid points a single finger accusingly towards Law who (had cleverly sat on his other side, away from his reach) ignores him in favour of slipping on his glasses to read Chopper's hasty scribbles.

"Are fucking — **_my_** — _ex!_"

Law relaxes. The idiot had just got another infection in his stump.

_Probably from that night..._

And he had also probably avoided seeking help till **just** today. He shifts his attention back to the affected area first before he aims a glare to the seething redhead.

"Are you done?"

Kid looks just about ready to blow, and yanks his head free from the offending cheap, black faux-leather strap. He was only getting_ revved up; **fuck **_— but stops short the moment he spots one of his friends on the floor; approaching the main desk. Law turns to look at what had startled him into silence, and he too sees the new figure who had stopped to confirm something with one of the nurses, before his pace quickens towards their room.

Law recognizes the face as one of the orderlies stationed to the brute in front of him; specifically during his one week rehabilitation period— taking place sometime shortly after Law had transferred in. He shakes his head, and quietly eyes Kid's now compunctious form before he turns his attention back to the door opening and closing behind their new companion.

"Hey—" he huffs, both hands splayed above his knees before he rises again, panting. "I came as fast as I could."

It had been the poor bastards' day off too.

* * *

**Sakura Hospital— Second Floor; en route to the Fourth**:

After leaving instructions to—

"I'm Wire," he says, hand outstretched. Law takes it, and with a deft nod leaves Kid in his care; and makes his way to his office. He had yet to come across his underlings, and wonders where he might find them at this stage as he shrugs off his black sweater; and it wasn't long before there's a huge whoop by the end of one corridor.

_Ah speak of the devils..._

Shachi and Penguin hastened themselves over, simultaneously rattling his ear off.

"You would not believe who's back—"

"Yeah! Shachi almost lost a hand cos the asshole tried to bi—"

"He actually bit _you_!"

Penguin waves the remark off, and then brandishes the hand for all to see.

"I think he's going soft... He didn't even leave a mark this time."

Shachi shakes his head at his optimism before they turn to look at Law's retreating figure; silently hinting that they should all get back to work. Except—

"Oi Boss! Your shirt has red spots on the back did you—"

"HE-HEY YOU'RE _BLEEDING_!"

From behind his spectacles, Law blinks. With all the humdrum he had completely neglected to take care of his own little problem.

"Not so loud, you—"

But it was already too late. "—_morons_."

Chopper gasps deeply from behind the trio. His eyes are as big as dinner plates, his mitts burrowing further into his ridiculous pink hat. With his mouth wide open, and a considerable lack of tact, Chopper bellows—

"YOU'RE DYING!" in a place full of sick people, followed quickly by a, "I'M _SO_ SORRY I YELLED AT YOU THIS MORNING."

Chopper then completes the farce by bowing at the waist, exclaiming, "Please take the rest of the day off!" But surprised by his change in perspective, Law chuckles good-naturedly, which immediately relaxes his two subordinates.

"Calm down, Tony-ya."

Law yanks one of the lab coats over from a nearby station, and shrugs it on to temporarily cover-up the stains on his dress shirt. He really should not have taken off his sweater out in the open.

The minute the younger physician stops hyperventilating, Law carries on.

"It's just some minor lacerations," and before he could start howling again, "I'm sure Milky-ya will one day reward you in similar fashion."

Chopper stops yanking on his hat the minute he hears the name of his beloved, and the taller male clips his name tag to the lapel of his coat. Law had also secured his charts for the day under one arm before pointing one long finger at the shortest to their odd party. "I actually have it on good authority that you have left _quite_ the impression on her."

At his dumbfounded expression, Shachi and Penguin turn to snigger behind their clipboards; and one could hear the proverbial hamster wheel squeak as the younger head doctor put two and two together.

"Oh you-you _BASTARD_."

Law had excused himself from the group to finally go to his office and carry on with his paperwork. He removes his glasses and slips one of its black stems into the neck of his shirt, before he burrows his free hand into his white coat. He smiles fondly as he thinks of his girlfriend, but is quickly drawn out of his fantasies by Chopper, who had reappeared through the doorway to yell—

"I'll _sick_ Zoro on you!"

Law stops halfway into his next step and turns, and suddenly Chopper does not feel even half as brave as he did this morning.

"I'm sure Nico-ya would not be happy to hear that Kureha-san's star student is the one petting Mihawk's pupil against me."

The taller male slowly closes the gap between them, and Chopper quivers in his boots.

"Especially following his last," he squats slightly just so that he could look him straight in the eye, "_episode_."

Chopper gulps.

Sweet, Nico Robin was an angel to all; until someone crossed any of her beloved friends. And as much as Chopper loved her, and she was only too happy to return his child-like affections tenfold whenever they crossed paths, he had not ever wanted to picture disappointing the older raven-haired beauty. Especially over someone as stupid as—

Law remains fixed in his position; a perfect blend between calm and smug, and Chopper resigns to his faith.

"I'll let it slide—"

"..."

_"_—_just-this-once!"_

And he promptly rushes off under the pretense of busy work. Law blinks at the comical dust cloud the other doctor had left behind, before he too, returns back to his initial gait with a more relaxed smile.

Once he's safely nestled behind his desk, Law thinks again of Nami, and wonders just how she was getting along with her day. His own handiwork would have been much, much worse on her, he thinks, as Law fishes for his black phone in the bag he had hastily thrown in earlier— shortly before he had darted off to Kid's room. He is surprised to find four new messages.

And eight missed calls.

And— his bravado deflates slightly.

_That... can't be good..._

* * *

**Sakura Hospital**— **Fourth Floor;** **Outside ****Law's office:**

His suspicions had been confirmed the minute he had checked the first text sent through one particular number.

Though Law may have refrained from recording _his_ name into his phone memory; he sure as hell still remembered their home cell by heart.

And as the younger brother had his own pathetic model to text with (who had already sent his daily HOW ARE YOU LAW in all caps as was his standard along with a forwarded photo of his dog captioned by ISNT HE THE _QT-**EST**_) then that could only mean that the invitation had specifically come from... the eldest.

The last one had been a curt _Call. Me. _from Nami. And following her habit to ring and cut and repeat till he answered; all of the missed calls— up to ten now— were from her. His phone vibrated again in his hands, and a picture of her smiling face came up on screen.

Law sweated at the irony. And rather than answer and face her wrath through the phone, Law had dashed ahead of Chopper; with a quick apology and—

"I'm taking you up on your generous offer, Tony-ya!"

And he had disappeared back out the way he had come from, before the other could even register what had just happened.

* * *

**Law's Beetle— En route to Amazon Academy**:

_The Casino would be re-opening its doors soon, so best steer clear of that road, and as the school day had just finished so would Calm Belt Road be brimming with—_

Law swerved ahead of oncoming traffic; as he was mentally picturing the fastest route to the Academy.

So, it turns out that Nami had been keeping herself busy. He suddenly really hated that she had accepted— and insisted on maintaining— this kind of employment. It would have been far better had she remained stationed at the hospital. And perhaps maneuver her studies along the line of medicine to secure a more permanent position there.

By his side.

In her hot little unif—

_Well_, it hadn't really been hers to begin with.

Law grimaces.

Not to mention his little fantasy had other holes poked into it by none other than her little friends, and acquaintances, and of course—

_Eustass-ya._

Law drums his fingers on the steering wheel and lets out one long, frustrated sigh. The lines on his forehead, however, straighten in amusement.

It seems that no matter where she went, his _sweet_ girlfriend sure had a way of attracting the worst kind of attention.

* * *

**Presently;**

**Amazon Academy (for Gifted Education!)**—** Back entrance:**

When he finally arrives, he slides his car inside their parking lot— right into Boa's empty car space— and quickly locks up and heads to her classroom.

She had been in the middle of re-dialing again (up to 26 now) when she had caught sight of his spikes peeking through the glass partition at the top, and hastily abandons her futile task to open the door. She barely manages to latch it back closed before he's all up in her space.

"Why didn't you ans— _Hey!_"

He grasps at her wrist tugging her back towards her desk littered with an assortment of stationary and coloured pictures, and Nami notes the look in his eye.

"Are you- are you serious!?"

He smirks. "Oh come on, I can't be the only one thinking it."

"You-you-_you_— _jerk._"

And at his silence she briefly curbs her worries to fire further charges at him.

"I can barely move!"

"..."

"And most importantly—"

"...?"

"Do you even have any idea how _embarrassing_ it was to face Uncle Doffy in this state!?"

Law snorts. _Suspicions seasoned and proved._

"I'm sure it wasn't that b—"

"He knew, Law. He _fucking_ knew."

Her red face was nestled between her hands, as she recalls the incident that had taken place just a few hours ago. But she is drawn back from reminiscing by his teasing tone. He clearly had one thing brimming on his mind, and her humiliation, — especially the ones (one in particular) who had caused her to suffer it— was not it.

"It's just us here... no?"

He slinks closer to sensually whisper in her ear.

"You can be as loud as you want."

"..."

"I'm sure Haredas-san won't come knocking on your door again, telling you to stop screaming your boyfri—"

"Law."

"—ends' name. And to stop 'begging him to st-o-p when you clearly like being fucked like a' —"

"_Law!_"

Her hands had pressed against his lips to prevent him from saying anything further. She pulls back with a sound of disgust—

The bastard had licked her! And at her miffed expression, he chuckles, and grasps both wrists in either hand.

"You have Mugiwara-ya to thank for that."

She angrily stabs one of her fingers into his chest.

"Don't blame Luff- _mmph!_"

But he had yanked her closer to press his lips to her own.

Dazed by their hot make-out session, Nami could pretend that she no idea how her pants wound up around her ankles nor how she had willingly kicked them off to spread her thighs wider to accommodate him as he thrust into her waiting sex. He too, had shrugged his own jeans lower just so that he would not be slowed down from his wicked momentum; even if he was taking great care— against his usual callous ministrations— by once again bracing her back against something comfortable.

"Ah—Ah—AH—A_hhh_—"

Her legs dangled helplessly with every thrust over his forearms, and he leaned forward to kiss her as she slid lower onto the desk. Her arms clung to his opened shirt before they wrapped around his neck to draw him closer, and she purrs his name— the real one— between bites and sucks to her face, and her lips.

He pulls away if only to relish in hearing her full pleasured cries ringing loud; and unhindered.

Which is probably why he failed to hear the door to her classroom opening right in the middle of their lewd act.


End file.
